


Force of Attraction

by collegefangirl3791



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Angst, Banter, Bounty Hunter!Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, But also A little shit, Clint Is a Good Bro, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Force-Sensitive Natasha, Grey Jedi, I don't know how to tag this, Jedi!Steve Rogers, Pre-Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Romanogers Star Wars AU, Sass, Slow Burn, Smuggler!Bucky, Tony Being Tony, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-07-24 17:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7516252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collegefangirl3791/pseuds/collegefangirl3791
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Star Wars Romanogers AU that you never asked for but got anyway. Steve is a Grey Jedi, Bucky is his smuggler best friend, and Natasha is a bounty hunter who really couldn't care less about this whole "Jedi Code" thing. But hey, at least he looks good in leather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trouble

Steve sat on the floor, his hands out at his sides, legs crossed in the lotus position. He was trying to meditate. Trying and, it seemed, failing. Even years after becoming a Jedi Master, he had an immensely difficult time meditating. It wasn't through lack of trying, but something always seemed to get in the way.

It was only in his friend James' freighter, the Galactic Shield, that he could find enough calm to spend more than a few minutes meditating. The Force hummed around him, waiting for him to call to it, like a cat. He could sit on the floor (feeling the vibration of the engines throughout his body) and the Force would surge through him with so much power it was like sitting in the ocean.

"Master, we're coming up on Tatooine." James peered around the corner, grinning. "You oughta get ready. You know as well as I do that Stark isn't too fond of Jedi."

"I know, I know." Steve stood up, stretched, and headed for his bunk. He kept an extra set of robes there, but also a worn, comfortable outfit that made him look like a proper smuggler.

Stark was a valuable trading partner for the Jedi, based on Mos Eisley. He manufactured and sold all of the most intricate and vital parts of a good lightsaber, and his stock of Kyber crystals was the best in the galaxy. Ironically, he didn't like Force users and wouldn't do direct business with them, whether they were Sith or Jedi. However, thanks to James and a good costume, Steve had managed to work out dozens of deals with Stark in person.

He made his way to the cockpit as James expertly maneuvered the Shield into a smooth landing. "What do you need this time, Stevie?" James asked. Steve handed him a list, adjusting the blaster on his belt. He hated using a blaster, but he didn't have much of a choice.

"Alright, great. Come on, Jedi Master. Let's go have a drink."

Tatooine's burning sand crunched under his boots as they walked out from under the freighter and into the sun. Steve reached out with the Force as he always did, comfortably aware of everyone around him. He'd learned a long time ago that Mos Eisley was safe for no one. No one but a privileged few such as Stark.

The cantina wasn't very busy, for once; apparently most of the usual patrons had already had their fill for the day. James swaggered up the bar counter and slid onto a stool. "We're here to meet Stark."

"Bucky!" The businessman's exuberant voice came from behind the bar, and he popped up from where he'd apparently been crouching to find a drink for himself. "And the Captain. Long time no see!" He jumped onto the counter and swiveled around to face them, popping the lid off a bottle of blue liquid. "Wanna drink?"

"No thanks," Steve snorted, rolling his eyes. "We have business to talk, Stark, and we can't all handle our drink as well as you can."

Stark shrugged, his brown eyes twinkling. "I suppose not. Come on, let's find ourselves somewhere to sit and chat, shall we?"

They moved to a corner of the room and sat down around a grimy little table. James immediately propped his feet up on its surface, crossed his arms, and got comfortable. Steve relaxed a bit as well; working out satisfactory trade deals could take hours.

"How've you two scoundrels been?" Stark asked, smiling. He wasn't all that bad, really, just a little too fixated on money. He also tended to cut deals with the Hutts, but when you lived on Tatooine, you couldn't afford to antagonize them.

"Oh, not bad. A bit crazy; had a few skirmishes on Mon Cala."

"How the hell did you manage to pick a fight on Mon Cala?" Stark tipped back some of his drink.

"I ran into some Imperial troops. It wasn't my fault this time," James grumbled. "It was the Captain's."

"Hey, what do you mean it was my fault?" Steve protested, straightening. "I didn't know they were there any more than you did."

"Anyway…." James waved his robotic left hand dismissively. "On to business."

They spent the next twenty minutes arguing good-naturedly about how many credits was a fair amount for the supplies the Jedi wanted. Before they could reach any kind of agreement, however, they were interrupted by a woman in an oddly-shaped mask. She sat down next to them, smiling, leaning forward with her forearms on the table. "Hello."

Steve glanced at James and reached out with the Force, tentatively trying to get a read on the newcomer. She was Force-sensitive, whoever she was, so he quickly retreated and gave James the slightest shake of his head. No point in risking discovery, and she didn't seem to be a threat. James took his hand off his blaster.

"Hi. Do you want something?" Steve asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh, I was just wondering if you boys could spare a few credits. I need a drink and I'm flat broke." The woman's voice was muffled by her mask, but she still managed to sound alluring.

Stark raised his eyebrows and leaned back in his seat. "I don't know… You don't look broke, honey."

"Like you'd know what broke looks like, Stark," she retorted, standing. Almost before Steve registered what was happening, she had snatched his blaster out of its holster and pressed it to Stark's forehead, her grip firm and steady. James was only a split second slower, registering what had happened just a little too late. He brought his own weapon up to point at her head all the same.

"Put the gun down," he ordered. Steve stood, unsure what to do but fairly certain that he didn't want Stark to die.

"Not likely." The woman laughed quietly. "You know what, I don't think I need your credits after all. This job should earn me more than enough."

Steve adjusted his stance, holding out his hands as if to calm her. "Look, if you kill him, my friend Bucky here will blow off your head. You really willing to die for money?"

She whirled and kicked James' blaster out of his hand, her own weapon staying firmly planted against Stark's head. "Yeah, apparently." Her finger tightened on the blaster trigger, and Steve took a deep breath and reached for the Force, using it to pin her gun arm to her side. James sighed and buried his face in his hands, Stark stared at him open-mouthed, and the woman swore and fought against his hold.

Steve strode over and pried the blaster out of her fingers, holstering it with a small smirk. "We're a bit busy right now. Could you come back later?"

She tilted her head slightly, adjusted her mask, and strode away.

"She will be back later, I can almost guarantee," Stark said coolly, taking a swig of his drink. "Bounty hunters. No respect for personal space. If I had to guess, I'd say Jabba hired her. He hates me… Not like it's my fault." He shifted in his seat and gave Steve a narrow-eyed look. "I'll sort out what to do about her later. I'm a bit more interested in you, Captain. How long have you been able to use the Force like that? Is this a recent thing, or are you just a really good liar?"

Steve swallowed and shrugged. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm just a good liar."

"He's a Jedi, actually. Not on the council, but might as well be," James interjected. "They won't let him because he's not as strict as the rest of them."

"Interesting." The businessman didn't look too bothered by the whole thing as he raised his bottle in a half-hearted salute. "Don't tell me you're a Jedi too, Bucky."

"Hell no," his friend snorted. Steve cracked a grin. "I wouldn't be one if I could. It's just this nutcase here who's got the mojo."

Stark stood, pushing away from the table with a sigh. "Alright. You pay me my asking price, and we'll call it even."

"Excuse me?"

"Either you pay me full price this time to make up for lying to me, Cap, or you can forget about trading with me again, either of you." Stark grinned. "And honestly, I'd hate for you to choose the second option, because I like you two."

Steve hesitated, then sighed and shook Stark's hand. "Fair enough."

He and James spent the next few hours collecting their purchases and loading them into the freighter. Steve was distracted the whole time, although he never would had admitted as much. He was thinking about the bounty hunter. Force sensitive, talented in combat, and fascinating. He kept thinking that maybe she would make a good Jedi; he hated to see so much potential go to waste. But he also kept telling himself to leave it, it was a waste of time, she'd probably laugh at him, he should really just go back to Ach To and forget she existed.

Too bad he never listened to his own advice. That might have something to do with why he wasn't on the Jedi Council. He went into the freighter to replace his blaster with his saber, made some lame excuse to James about being worried about Stark, and left.


	2. Toxic

If a person wanted to stay on Tatooine, particularly in Mos Eisley, they had to have several things: money, courage, skepticism, and a steady hand with a weapon. Naïve or weak people died quickly on Mos Eisley, believing that they were in a kinder system because they didn't know better. It could be worse still for those who survived; many were kidnapped and made into slaves of the Hutts or any other filthy crime boss who didn't want to pay their workers.

Steve had been lucky: he'd had James to show him the unwritten rules of the place and a working knowledge of combat to get him through the first several visits. By now, he had several contacts on Tatooine, a small family of former slaves that he stayed with routinely, and a stash of extra food and weapons hidden on the outskirts of the city.

The family (which consisted of two children and their parents) lived in a small hut that they had built themselves. Steve smiled fondly as he walked up to their front door. "Hello? Is anyone home?"

"Master Steve!" The oldest boy came barreling out of the hut like his feet had wings, grinning broadly.

"Hello, Cooper!" Steve scooped the boy up and spun him around. "Are you behaving yourself?"

"Yes."

"No he isn't!" Lila came pelting after her brother, her twin braids bouncing. "He stole my Rebel fighter!"

The Jedi Master gave Cooper a mock scowl. "Did you take your sister's toy?"

"No..." Cooper muttered, glancing away, but then he looked back at Steve and shrugged. "I guess."

"You be sure to give it back."

"Steve!" Laura Barton came outside, her stomach round, her smile wide. "How are you? I'm afraid Clint isn't home yet, but he'll be back later."

"That's fine." Steve gave Laura a warm hug. "I was hoping I could stay here tonight?"

"Sure! Come on in."

Ducking his head, Steve made his way through their small doorway and sat down at one of their chairs. The house looked smaller on the outside because of the size of the door and the seemingly low ceiling, but Clint had scooped out the floor so that there was plenty of space to stand, and the house was plenty long and wide enough for their small family.

"How are things with you?" Laura asked. She was apparently in the middle of making dinner; a banged-up pot of liquid simmered on their small stove.

"Not bad. Stark found out I was a Jedi today."

"Oh no. How'd that turn out?"

"Again, not bad. I saved his life, and he likes me, so I lost some money, but that was all."

Lila clambered onto his lap, holding a doll made of dried plants. It was dressed in what seemed to be armor and a helmet. Steve asked her who made it for her.

"Auntie Nat," she said.

Although Steve had no idea who that was, he didn't ask, assuming it was just a family friend or some old woman in the market that had been kind to Lila. He bounced the little girl on his knee, paying little attention to her ramblings as he tried to work out how to find the bounty hunter and convince her to come with him.

"Hey guys!" Clint's familiar rough voice brought Steve out of his reverie, and he grinned, pushing himself out of his chair and setting Lila on the floor. "I brought Auntie Nat for dinner!"

"Great!" Laura met her husband at the door and gave his a quick kiss. "Steve's here, too. I think he's staying the night."

Clint smiled and pulled his hearing aid out of his ear, signing a brief _"awesome"_. Steve had helped him purchase the hearing aid some time ago, but it wasn't as well-made as it could have been, so after a long day of working in the sand, Clint was always glad to remove the device and talk with his hands.

He stepped out of the way of the door, and a slim, muscular woman stepped through it. Steve was struck immediately by her bright, unmistakable red hair and green eyes. He stepped forward to say hello, but then noticed the mask under her arm and the shocked look on her face as she met his eyes.

 _Oh, shit_ , Steve though.

In the blink of an eye, the woman's expression became politely interested. Steve had a little more difficulty hiding his surprise, and Clint immediately picked up on his discomfort.

 _"Is everything okay?"_ he signed.

 _"Yes."_ Steve managed a grin.

Laura stepped in, then, to introduce them. "Steve, this is Natasha Romanoff. Natasha, this is Steve Rogers."

Romanoff smiled calmly and held out her hand for Steve to shake; he reluctantly accepted with a tense grin.

"Nice to meet you."

"You too."

Clint turned so that his body hid his hands from Romanoff, and signed, _"She's a firecracker, isn't she?"_

Steve snorted. _"I don't know. Yeah, sure."_

_"You've met her before, haven't you?"_

_"This afternoon."_

Clint raised his eyebrows and nodded, understanding. _"Oh boy."_

Laura broke up their conversation (which she'd been watching with narrowed eyes) by clapping her hands. "Dinner time, you guys," she said sternly. "Sit down. Steve, if you'd pull up an extra chair for Natasha…"

Steve nodded meekly and did as he was told, gesturing for the bounty hunter to sit down. She did, thanking him. Her eyes were hard and wary, as if she fully expected him to attack, and the Force crackled nervously around her.

The dinner consisted of instant bread and hot potato stew. Steve had certainly eaten better, fancier meals before (he was an ambassador, after all), but none had ever felt as comfortable as meals at Clint's home. Although, at the moment, he would have preferred to be almost anywhere else.

If it hadn't been for Lila and Cooper's incessant chatter, the situation would have been unbearable. As it was, before long, he and Romanoff were both joking around with the kids. It quickly became evident that she spent even more time with Clint's family than Steve did. He couldn't decide how he felt about that. As a rule, he didn't like bounty hunters. What was there to like? They didn't care who they worked for or who they hurt as long as they got paid. A bounty hunter spending so much time with Lila and Cooper… He couldn't help but be a bit worried.

"Why are you staying this time, Steve?" Laura asked, her hands moving rapidly.

"It's complicated," he answered.

Clint nodded. _"Isn't it always?"_

Steve laughed. "I guess." He glanced at Romanoff. "Gotta make sure a friend of mine is okay."

The woman bristled a bit, crossing her arms. "I'm sure your friend can handle himself without you. You should have left."

"Yeah, because I'm sure you were just going to walk away and leave him alone."

"Maybe I would've."

Clint slashed his right hand down, hitting his left palm. _"Stop."_ His grey eyes flashed angrily. _"Whatever happened earlier, leave it. We're eating right now. You can fight it out later."_

Lila and Cooper glanced back and forth, confused. They were both fairly proficient in sign language, since their father had been speaking it since they were born, but the conversation made no sense to either of them.

"Sorry," Steve grumbled, shooting Romanoff a half-irritated, half-apologetic look. She just snorted and went back to her meal.

 _Great start, Master Idiot,_ Steve berated himself.

After that, the tension at the table was practically tangible; Steve felt bad for making the dinner awkward, and plus he didn't want to risk an argument with Romanoff, so he just stared at his bowl of stew as he ate.

"Are you planning on sticking around?" Laura asked quietly. Steve glanced over at the bounty hunter; she was stirring her stew listlessly, her expression blank.

"I don't know. Probably not; I do have a job to do," she said quietly.

"Alright. You be careful, Nat."

Steve had to work hard not to scowl and make a biting remark; this was Laura, after all. She had to know something he didn't, because otherwise, none of this added up.

Romanoff stood up, retrieving her mask from where she'd set it at the start of the meal. "I should go. Thanks for dinner, guys. Lila, Cooper, you be good."

"Yes, Auntie Nat," the kids chorused.

Steve got to his feet as well. "I'll be back in a bit."

Romanoff glared at him, but she let him follow her outside.

The desert was fading to grey as Tatooine's second sun began to set, turning the horizon bright orange and gold. Romanoff marched several yards away from the house before turning on her heel and practically stabbing him in the face with an accusing finger.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Me? What are _you_ doing here?"

"They're my friends."

"They're mine too!"

Romanoff sighed and ran a hand through her hair, obviously frustrated. "Why didn't you just leave? It's not like Stark is all that important to you, except as a trading partner. What's your problem?"

"What's yours?" Steve snapped. (His attitude would get him in trouble one of these days, but for now he was tired and annoyed and frankly, he didn't feel like slowing down and calming his mind.) "If you're such a good friend to them, why can't you leave them alone? You're a bad example to the kids, not to mention you're probably wanted all over the galaxy."

Romanoff laughed derisively. "Yeah, because a Jedi is safer on Mos Eisley than a bounty hunter."

"Nobody here _knows_ I'm a Jedi. Hell, I'm barely even known as a smuggler. I don't bother anyone, I mind my own business. It's hard sometimes, but I keep a low profile, and I don't ruffle feathers. They're safer with me than almost anyone else."

"You have no idea what you're talking about, Rogers," she sneered. "They're safe with me. I'm not stupid."

Steve wanted to say something like "you could've fooled me," but they both knew she was right (more or less). From what Steve had seen, it was evident that this woman was an expert. If she didn't want people to know where she was, then they wouldn't. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Okay, whatever. But I'm not going to let you kill Stark."

"Oh really? How do you plan on stopping me?"

Steve just raised an eyebrow, and she sighed.

"Okay, fine. Relax. But I'm not the only bounty hunter out to get him. Jabba's kinda pissed."

Hesitating briefly, Steve rubbed the back of his neck, then said, "Look, I didn't actually stick around because of Stark. The man's got a massive security system and a couple tricks of his own; he doesn't need me. I wanted to talk to you."

Romanoff's eyes hardened, and she looked him over briefly. "What about?"

"You. I assume you've noticed, but you're Force-sensitive. More than normal, anyway. You've got a strong presence... Basically I'm saying you could make a good Jedi, if you wanted." Steve shrugged. The bounty hunter's face was completely blank, and he tried not to be intimidated. "I guess that sounded stupid, but you'd have everything you needed. You wouldn't have to kill for money anymore." He hated that he had no idea how she felt about that; her face was entirely uncommunicative. He could feel himself floundering. "I just hate seeing potential go to waste."

Romanoff's face broke into a broad, amused smile, and she winked. "Aren't you sweet? Look, honey. If anyone's wasting their potential, it's you."

She turned and stalked away, and if Steve was staring, well… it wasn't like anyone could blame him. He heaved a sigh and walked back inside. He'd check on Stark's place later. For now, he could use some water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should note, as we begin chapter two of this fic, that I do not update multi-chapters very consistently because of my crazy life. Sorry. :/ Italics in quotations are in sign language (because Deaf/Hard of Hearing Clint is my favorite ever) and plain italics are Steve's thoughts.
> 
> This is supposed to take place, like... Idk, before the whole fiasco in the prequels but... IDK. It's a thing. It's AU.


End file.
